Changes
by kykkio
Summary: Just Jane and Lisbon
1. Season 1: of tests and boundaries

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist**

Season 1: of tests and boundaries (early S1)

Jane padded slowly towards his battered couch, a cup of fresh tea in hand. The normally busy CBI bullpen was quiet this late at night and he always enjoyed the peace of it. Earlier this evening it was boiling with activity, phone calls and pics of their last case. It had not ended too well though. Jane sighed as he dropped onto the coach, careful not to spill his drink. He wasn't being fair, the case had been a success: the guilty wife had been sent to prison after murdering her rich husband. She had not thought she was gonna get caught, so consequently she had not considered her 5 years old child who was now without any of their parents.

Jane rose his blue cup to his lips and grimaced, placing it again on the little plate. Luckily Van Pelt had found very fast some relatives and the child wouldn't spend a single night out of somewhere she could call home. Really days like this were tough…

Crossing his legs he tried to relax with his cup of tea, caressing the leather of the coach absently with one hand. Being always right sometimes was a pain. He had guessed it was the wife almost since the beginning but had been wishing that maybe, _maybe_ he could be wrong and for the expression on Lisbon's face she surely was expecting the same. Neither of them had commented it aloud, but just one shared look and they had understood they were on the same page. It was not a surprise for him to find out that, when he had explained his stunt and the possible outcomes, she had quietly asked Van Pelt to look for relatives of the little girl. Sometimes it was as if she could read his mind. He didn't like it at all but had to reckon it was useful, especially when a stunt of his got out of control, which surprisingly for him, happened very often. After these 5 years, he and Lisbon worked surprisingly well together.

He raised the cup to his lips again but just stared at the empty space in front of him. Days like this were horrible…

"Not your flavor?"

He blinked, startled. Lisbon was standing beside him, her coat already on, a big bag hanging over her shoulder, clearly she was leaving.

"Meh. Too hot" He shook his head slightly, the dim light reflected on his curls "I thought everybody was at home already?"

He tried not making eye contact with her, that case had hit close home. All cases involving children did.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lisbon tilting her head to one side, pondering something. Probably she was wondering if he was all right. He suppressed a little smile at the thought and tried to hide it rising his cup once again. He was mildly amused to be under Teresa Lisbon's wing, the whole team was, although he never gave it too much thought. That was how she was. She had this _urge _to protect. Not that he needed it, but if it didn't interfere with his goal and made her feel better…

At last Lisbon seemed to reach to a conclusion and rested a hip against the nearest table without approaching.

"Cases with kids are always hard" She said slowly

Jane made a non-committal sound, trying to look nonchalant. He was never comfortable when anyone got too close to his thoughts and Lisbon, without noticing, had the ability to do it every now and then. Their relationship was, as it was, convenient, he didn't need anything else. He closed cases and she granted him access to the Red John files. He suppressed a shiver at the name and Lisbon pressed on.

"Luckily she has relatives willing to keep her" Lisbon was groping in the dark. It was impossible to read Jane if he didn't want to be read, which was 99% of the time.

Jane shrugged feigning indifference while she watched closely, accommodating better the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

"Van Pelt found them. What an asset to your team, isn't it?" Jane deflected, now looking her in the eyes "A little naïve if you ask me, but she knows her way with computers. And she can efficiently distract Rigsby from cleaning our fridge every time he feels like it"

Lisbon smirked but composed her face quickly "Our team" She remarked "And as you know this kind of relationship would be against CBI regulations"

"What kind of relationship?" Jane asked innocently, flashing her his trademark grin

"Love relationships"

"Are you suggesting Van Pelt and Rigsby have and affair?" He mocked in feign horror

Lisbon stomped the floor with one foot impatiently "No, YOU are suggesting that"

"Me? I don't remember doing that. Let me think…" Jane touched his chin with the tea cup breaking eye contact for a second, before holding Lisbon's gaze again "Nope. I'm pretty sure it was _you_ who suggested it"

"Jane…" a warning in her voice

"Lisbon…" He mimicked

Lisbon inhaled deeply and, Jane was sure of it, counted to five holding her breath. He could see the internal debate within her, to carry on a fruitless argument she was not going to win or to let it go maintaining her authority intact. He smirked internally counting _1, 2, 3…_

"Never mind"

At last her common sense won and they fell silently again, being the ticking of an old clock on a wall the only sound in the room. He sipped his tea grinning.

Lisbon was a good cop and a better human being, although a little tight, and in these 5 years together he had learned to respect her but also he was willing to try how far he could go, how far she would let him before snapping at him. It was fun to watch honestly, the only distracting thing in his otherwise dull existence. He had seen more than once a spark of amusement in her eyes when one stupid plan of his had succeeded, only to be replaced by a stern talk about protocols and inappropriate behavior. Although that spark intrigued him, he was far more interested wondering how far he could stretch her book of rules…

This was the kind of relationship he and Lisbon had. He, prodding and testing her boundaries, trying to figure out which buttons to push to make her jump. She, keeping him at arms length talking about professionalism and rules but at the same time trying to make him feel part of something. Not that he needed it. He just needed to finish off the bastard who killed his family, after … he was not sure if there would be an after.

"Is there something you want? It's late and I'm sure you have a home to go" He snapped, trying to regain his composure.

Lisbon blinked, uncomfortably, and took this as her queue to leave "Yes, I've just come to say goodnight" she straightened herself and Jane pretended not to see the hurt in her eyes, looking through the window and sipping his tea. He really didn't want this.

He waved a hand at her dismissively "Good night Lisbon"

"Night Jane"

Lisbon turned on her heels and went to the elevator, not sparing a glance at him. She had been watching him in this case and had been aware how restless he was at the end. She had figured out it was because a child was involved, he always seemed to react particularly strong when there was a child in the mix. But maybe she had guessed wrong. She was never sure what he was thinking.

She pressed the button waiting for the elevator.

This was the thing about Jane, she thought biting her lower lip, he was so secretive and isolate that she couldn't help trying to make him feel part of the team, even though knowing the possibilities of succeed were scarce. Deep down Lisbon knew he didn't want to, but she was stubborn and knew that he needed it, the team, the job. He needed to have solid ground under his feet.

Being perfectly aware who Jane was, she knew the only thing he had was his revenge, the rest of it, the rest of them, were just a convenience to his goal, a way to pass time. But the CBI was all he had and she was willing to forget some of his tricks and eccentricities to give him somewhere to belong, and maybe with time…

She shook her head and entered in the elevator, pushing a short strand of hair behind her ear. This man was infuriating half of the time, and the other half a pain in the ass but he closed cases and that was what really mattered at the end. To bring justice to families and victims. If only it were easier to make him follow the rules... she felt half of the time he was testing her. Like a guinea pig, she felt…observed. As if he was trying to rile her up to see how she would react, prodding. Pushing him was her way to mantain the status quo but at the same time she tried to pull him towards the team.

She groaned inwardly, feeling the beginning of a headache. After 5 years she knew too well the Jane-headaches as she called them. Her consultant liked to play a lot, too much to be honest, especially with people and most of the time she felt being part of his playground. But she was not having any of this, so she snapped at him for his antics, feeling threatened in a way and, always tensed, unable to relax around him. She chuckled without humor, the rest of the team was even more _un-_relaxed, if this was even a word. She could swear she'd seen Rigsby flinching when Jane, with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, had explained a con that involved him somehow.

Sometimes she felt unsure when he joked with her, not knowing whether to play along, to stay silent or to cut him off. Normally it was the latter, but more and more recently she had found herself retaliating, which had led to a surprised look on Jane's face and a brief bantering. Not professional, but she had to reckon seeing the fake psychic at loss for a moment trying to win the upper hand instead of just having it felt empowering and good.

She fumbled with her big bag trying to found the keys of her car. Why on earth did she have such big bags? It's not like she carried lots of things around…

At last she opened the door of her car and jumped behind the steering wheel. She was giving too much thought to this, but she couldn't help worrying about Jane and the team, dreading that one day closing cases wouldn't be enough and she would be fired.

She started the engine and sighed. At least with Jane around she was never bored.


	2. Season 2: of tricks and jokes

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist**

Season 2: of tricks and jokes (around 2x19)

"Yes, of course… yes… I understand…"

Lisbon had been for the most part of an hour listening to her new boss Madeleine Hightower ranting about Patrick Jane on the phone. Really. This time he hadn't messed up _that_ badly. She lifted the corner of her mouth at the thought, her standards about messes as far as Jane was concerned were _maybe_ pretty unusual. Ok, maybe being sent to jail in order to prove a hit by the Assistant District Attorney was not by the book, but she could not blame him, this fish was hard to catch. She had to admit not being completely impartial in this one since Jane had managed to get her job back after her suspension…

"Of course…yes…severely reprimanded…" She nodded absently.

Hightower was right though, Jane was her responsibility. As her boss, although she was pretty sure he didn't consider her such thing, she should be able to control him _before_ he got in trouble, but with Jane she was just glad to be able to minimize the damages, as she once told him, never knowing what he'd do next. Jane was a force of the nature, she never knew what he was thinking. Always secretive, always with something else close to his vest. She knew she wouldn't ever be able to make him open up, and the present case was not even Red john related.

She suppressed a shiver and made an effort to listen to her boss "Of course. Will do"

And in a suddenly and weird display he had assured he'd always save her. This man was unpredictable, was he being serious? What was she supposed to make of that? She didn't need the saving and had told him without hesitation but it was kind of…moving.

"Tomorrow, first thing in the morning in your office. Good night" Lisbon repeated and hung up after her boss with a grunt. She hoped Hightower hadn't noticed she had been repeating her words for the last minutes not paying attention.

Sighing, she brushed her bangs with two fingers. Her boss was an intelligent and perceptive woman and she supposed, since Jane never got tired to remind her how a bad liar she was, that she had left her out of the hook this time because it was nearly 1 am and she was still at her office. Lisbon frowned at the thought, a little bit of social life would be nice but with a schedule like hers…

She replayed in her mind the events of the day and their interview with the leader of Visualize. These guys were a bunch of wackos and she couldn't shake off a bad feeling about Brett Stiles, but she couldn't put a finger on why.

_You don't wanna make it personal._

He had really pressed Jane's buttons mentioning his family though. That was a subject she never touched and he never talked about, so she had shivered inwardly when Jane had answered cold and composed. Lisbon bit her lower lip lost in thoughts, she had felt in him a fury and hatred waiting to be unlashed, a dangerous warning. She was starting to suspect there was more to Jane than met the eye, but she had never guessed that under his carefree facade could be something so... sadness yes, she had seen it plenty but this was different and… unsettling. After the interview his flashing grins had returned but she had noticed he had been quieter than usual when they came back to the CBI building. She'd never claimed to be an expert in Patrick Jane, and surely she'd never be, but at least she could guess when something was wrong. Lately she had partnered with him in cases a lot more, trying to save his ass was a full time job, she thought with a smirk, and she was starting to detect his switching moods.

Lisbon stifled a yawn and switched off the light of her office ready to go home, but decided to check on Jane first. Not that he was going to tell her if something was bothering him but maybe she could cheer him up before she goes. She yawned again, her bed was calling her name by the second.

Jane was on his beloved coach, a book in his hand pretending to be reading. Although he wanted to deny it, the incident with Stiles had let him pretty shaken. How did he dare to speak about his family? He had felt a fury only comparable to Red John's cases. He had tried to calm down, more for Lisbon's benefit than for Stiles. He didn't want her to see him that way.

They had been together in more cases recently and he didn't know why but being with her gave him a sense of …normalcy he hadn't felt in a very long time. That was a new discovery and he still had to think about it but her soothing presence made him feel almost at ease. He shook his head at the thought, his eyes locked on the book without really seeing it. It was weird, Lisbon should remind him of Red John since her team was responsible for the investigation, so she should be the last person to give him any normalcy vibe but the fact is that she did. This bantering between them, back and forth, was a surprising and pleasant new discovery and without him noticing, he had been trying to engage Teresa Lisbon in it more and more often. She didn't seem to mind though… She still pointed at him rules and protocols but in these moments, normally in her car, going to a new crime scene, she seemed to forget about them. As if he was a normal person.

Jane closed his eyes at the thought and twirled his ring nervously. He was not a normal person and he would never be. His arrogance had lead to the murder of his family by a serial killer and now all his energy and his ultimate goal was to kill him as painfully as possible. Far from normal. Jane felt a wave of fury and self-loathing inside that made his teeth clench and his jaw set. A loud and deafening scream roaring in his head. Too much. He should look for somewhere more private in the CBI, maybe upstairs…

He heard footsteps behind him and with quick breaths composed himself. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to loose the tightness that had settled in his throat.

"So late Lisbon?" His voice cracked a little but otherwise he didn't think she had noticed.

The bullpen was pretty dark so he couldn't see the expression on her face, hoping she'd have just arrived. It was kind of shameful, she was strong and loyal and fair, things that he would not be and had never been. She had faith that he was but he knew better. She was going to be disappointed at the end.

"How did you know it was me?" Se answered startled.

Jane just rose and eyebrow and grinned, although he could feel in his muscles the effort.

She shook her head and smiled back "May I?" She said gesturing towards the coach.

"By all means. Make yourself at home" He answered theatrically.

Unceremoniously Lisbon plopped down on the far end of the coach and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Jane noticed the tension on her shoulders and the line between her eyes, this woman was going to kill herself with so much work, he frowned at the thought.

"You should be at home, instead of brooding here with me" He said softly before he could stop himself.

Lisbon raised her head swiftly and surprised "So, you admit you are brooding?"

Crap, thought Jane. Why was he always saying too much when he was with her?

"I…_admit_ this man touched a nerve…" He answered reluctantly but didn't elaborate. He was starting to feel uncomfortable and fidgeted on the couch. Now it would be a great moment to find a punch line to make her leave, but his brain was working slowly.

A silence followed his words but Lisbon didn't press on, her green eyes locked with his blue ones for a few seconds before darting towards the ceiling, resting her head on the back of the coach, as if wanting to give him some privacy.

His eyes softened as he scanned her figure in the dark. This woman was always so fiercely protective, no wonder he had developed the same sentiment for her. Difficult not to reciprocate. He had meant what he said in their last case, he'd do his best to protect her even if she didn't like it. He knew that he was difficult and secretive but he had come to appreciate Teresa Lisbon all these years and, since her job and her team were so precious to her, he would protect them too. Which led him to Madeleine Hightower.

Lisbon closed her eyes and sighed trying without doubt to relax.

To his own surprise their new boss had threatened him, in a not subtle way, that every time he crosses the line Lisbon was going to suffer the consequences. Really Lisbon had no sense of self-preservation? he would have already kicked him to the curb. He frowned angry with himself AND Lisbon. This woman had infinite patience. Madeleine was clever. She had noticed right away that normal threats were not having an effect, he had nothing to lose… His sight wandered the lonely and dark office to rest again on Teresa Lisbon.

_When she's unhappy I'm less happy_

It was true, they spent a lot of time together and without knowing they had developed something like friendship. He really trusted her…except with Red John, this bastard was his and no one, no one, was gonna keep him away from his vengeance. He set his jaw, his eyes hardening, and felt the sudden urgency to be alone again which was not gonna happen if his feisty coworker was almost falling…

"You're not falling sleep on my couch, aren't you?" He mocked and couldn't suppress a grin when she flinched imperceptibly but didn't open her eyes.

"This is not yours, it's CBI's property"

"Says who?"

"The tag attached to the rear" She stated swiftly.

"The tag…" Jane trailed off at loss.

"All the CBI furniture have a tag: property of the CBI or something , you know" She said nonchalantly waving a hand.

Jane blinked in confusion and fixed his gaze again on Lisbon. Dead serious, her eyes tight closed and…

"Liar" He stated in surprise and awe.

She snorted, a broad grin gracing her features "Good. Very good. I see why they are still paying you"

"I thought it was for my charm and people skills"

"Nope that's Cho" She answered opening her eyes at last, and Jane couldn't suppress a chuckle when he saw the spark dancing in her eyes in the dim light.

Lisbon's eyes softened at the sight and Jane couldn't avoid shaking his head in disbelief. She had succeeded and cheered him up, even though for brief moments. He felt a new wave of appreciation for her.

_I'm always gonna save you._ How was he possibly not?

He shook his head again not breaking eye contact "Good night Lisbon"

"Oh, is this my queue to leave?" She quirked an eyebrow

"You are dead on your feet if your lame jokes are indicative" He stated, amusement clear in his voice "Get some rest"

She stood up and stretched her arms "You too" She answered softly locking her eyes with his again.

Jane saw her concern and decided to humor her even though he knew he was not going to do it "I'll do. Good night"

Lisbon waved a hand and marched towards the elevator, Jane's smile fading the moment she turned her back. Reading again the Red John files sounded appealing before calling it a night.


	3. Season 3: of trust and faith

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist**

Season 3: of trust and faith (around 3x21)

"What's this?"

Lisbon flinched at the sound of Jane's voice in her ear. She was trying to focus on the document in her hands instead of thinking about ways to kill her consultant who was now perched lightly, as if he owned her office, one hand on the back of her chair, the other one resting on the table in front of her, reading over her shoulder.

"Jesus Jane! What about knocking?"

He just shrugged and continued reading, his face inches apart from hers, deep in concentration. Lisbon shook her head and raised her eyes toward his, waiting for him to finish reading _her_ paper.

"Oh I see…" He deadpanned locking his stare with hers "Are you in Visualize or something?"

Lisbon groaned and, in her mind, banged her head against the table, or better, _his_ head.

"Funny. Really. Do you remember LaRoche? As in our boss LaRoche?" She continued, her eyes never leaving his blue ones "He _thinks _I may need an anger management therapy"

He smirked with a spark in his eyes she had learned to catalogue as you-just-walked-into-it. "You have been under stress lately. I wonder why…"

She tapped her chin with one finger "Let me see… Because _maybe_ my consultant decided to come up with one of the most stupid plans _ever_?"

He tilted his head pretending to think "Hmmmm. Nope I think it's for the increasing levels of caffeine in your blood" He smiled brilliantly at her "What is this list anyway?"

"Tasks for the next appointment, I must write a list of things that cause me stress" She smirked at him knowingly "I think I have the first ten items covered"

Jane's lips twitched slightly in what Lisbon identified as amusement and his eyes scanned her face from the short distance. This was a habit he had acquired recently and she had not named this expression yet, but it looked almost like endearment.

"You wound me" He lifted the corner of his mouth, his voice low and soothing.

Lisbon quirked an eyebrow and teased back "You'll survive"

Jane smiled and, without breaking eye contact, released the paper putting slowly some distance between their bodies, then padded all the way back to her couch.

"Have fun with that!" He chirped closing his eyes and sprawling onto it.

Lisbon shook her head in amusement but didn't add anything. She was now used to Jane's habit to nap on her couch too. That white couch had appeared one day in her office and Jane had stated matter-of-factly that he needed it because hers was too hard to nap. She had stared dumbfounded, believing that no way in hell Patrick Jane was thinking seriously about sleeping in her office, but he had proved her wrong. At the beginning it was weird and a little uncomfortable but now she interpreted it as trust.

Normally he just walked into her office and, after a brief banter about her excess of paperwork, he just dropped on her couch, closing his eyes. In other occasions he came, tea in hand and coffee for her, and took a seat on it, legs crossed, making small chat about this and that. But there were days he just sat on it, deep in concentration with a book in his hands and didn't even seem to notice she was there. Lisbon had come to enjoy the company either way. She knew Jane was lonely and the fact that he was looking for this closeness with her was touching.

She sighed and followed the contour of his body with her eyes. His breathing soft, half sleep she supposed, his arms crossed on his vest and his face relaxed as if he had no troubles in this world. If only.

Behind his apparently calm and carefree demeanor, Jane had showed her that he was a man hurting and she couldn't avoid but feeling honored that he let her _see_ him. She had witnessed his pain for his dead family, his determination to find the killer and also a rage and hatred that she didn't know he was capable of feeling. She had seen it when Jane let her, which was more and more often lately.

At first she had thought that he did it unconsciously but with his last confession about Hightower being framed, she had realized he was starting to let her in, even if in this last case was more by force than anything. He was starting to see her as a real partner and maybe as a friend and that was something she had wanted for a long time. In every Red John case she was always trying to be there for him, to show him that he could rely on her, hold on to her if necessary.

He always dismissed her attempts as if he didn't notice it, but lately Lisbon had found that he did, and his response was to stay with her in her office, in the car, always a little bit longer, not wanting to break this contact. It warmed her inside.

She smiled briefly and glanced again towards his sleeping figure. There was something childish and warm in him that made her protection instincts kick full mode. She didn't remember ever wanting to protect someone as fiercely as she was willing to do with Jane. Not just from Red John but also from himself. He had suffered enough for three lifetimes.

"Are you having problems to fill from 11 to 20? Because I could…"

"No way" She chuckled "Carry on sleeping"

"As you wish" Jane answered not opening his eyes, a brief smile gracing his features.

She bit her lip suppressing a laugh. So much for being sleep.

Returning her gaze to the real paperwork she left the list forgotten under some reports and, sighing again, returned to her work. The smile on her lips still lingering for a while.

Jane was listening the soft brush of papers while Lisbon was working. He didn't bother to open his eyes, seeing her perfectly in his mind. A pen in her hand, a slightly frown and maybe, if he had been lucky, a small smile threatening to spill off the corner of her mouth. He enjoyed and treasured these little moments of peace with her. Everything was bearable in the world if he could lay on her couch at the end of the day, listening to her, working, and occasionally sighing or even grunting.

In these moments, he could feel fragments of a life he couldn't have. He clung to them starved, some days having this, being close to her, was the only thing that felt real, almost good. And he craved it.

He was being stupid and childish and he didn't deserve a break from his reality but sometimes the pain was too much and Lisbon had proved to have a way to comfort him he never thought possible. Even without doing anything at all.

He stretched his arms putting on a show but pretending to be asleep and heard her stopping her writing and catching her breath. Avoiding any noise. The fact that she was trying not to wake him up made him felt warm and tingly. It felt good to know someone cared, although it was scary too. He had tried for years to keep everybody at arm´s length, had convinced himself that he needed to focus on catching Red John but the truth was he couldn't have anybody close. This cat and mouse game he had to play, could jeopardize everybody close to him and besides he had no right. What for anyway?

The day his family had died he had died too, the fact he was still breathing was an insignificant detail, an inconvenience. He had emptied that day, his feelings, his plans for the future, his… life. It had all ended the moment he had opened that door, and had been replaced just with the one thought that made his heart still beat: _killing him_. He was empty and shallow, propelled forwards by his revenge and his tricks. As long as he had these he still could pretend he wanted to carry on.

He swallowed the knot in his throat while his heart, a painful reminder that he was still alive, beat wildly in his chest. He sharpened his ears trying to listen Lisbon, trying to calm himself with her presence.

The soft rushing of papers, the light tapping of the pen on the table… now she was humming a tune he didn't recognize.

She was so alive, so caring, so full of feelings. She anchored him to reality in a way that sometimes hurt and sometimes felt like an overdose. A sensorial overload for an empty man. But he needed it and sometimes he felt like an addict needing his fix. Reluctantly he had made amends with the fact that there were only two things that made him feel again, one was Red John and the other was Teresa Lisbon. The reasons for the first were obvious and for the second he had decided not to dwell on them.

When he had told her about Hightower being framed it had felt good, not right, but comforting. Knowing he had someone he could trust, that he was not alone. Although he thought it was a mistake, since Red John was his and his only, he couldn't help feeling less lonely, as if he could stretch his arms and reach out to someone in the middle of the turmoil of dark and hatred and pain that was his life. Even if he was not going to do it.

He squeezed his eyes closed, concentrating on her soothing presence in the office while trying to even his breath, pretending still to be sleeping.

He enjoyed watching her when she thought he was sleeping. She didn't pretend or hide, she almost filled his emptiness.

And she was comfortable with him, this bit he was sure of. On cases he could see a genuine smile almost-not-there when he hit someone's buttons, but when they were alone this smile widened and she didn't bother to hide it.

She liked his company and to be honest he liked to be with her. To feel cherished and to be needed. It had been a long time since he had felt something like this.

He didn't do it on purpose, but with every conversation, every lingering look, he knew what he was doing to her. He didn't want to but couldn't help it. This felt good, they felt good.

He shifted restlessly and clenched his fists on his vest, deciding to stop this train of thoughts. He never knew how to handle when his thoughts wandered to this unwanted territory. He had just felt hatred and self-loathed for years, not caring about his own feelings and even less about anyone's, so realizing that he could feel something different, that he could _care_… it was terrifying and unwanted. Not part of his plan, although he guessed it was too late for him to leave things the way they were. A little part of him didn't want to, but a larger part, his rational part, just wanted to finish, to stop caring, to make _her _stop caring.

Lisbon yawned and he heard the metallic clink of a pen dropping. She was calling it a night, he decided. Jane stayed perfectly still hearing the now familiar sounds that announced her departure. The dragging of a chair, the brush of a jacket on her purple t-shirt, and the click of her table lamp. He didn't open his eyes though.

He heard soft footsteps heading towards the door and pausing. He could picture her, standing by the door, looking down at him and biting her lower lip, trying to decide if she should convince him to stay in a motel tonight or just let him be. Her green eyes concerned, her small silhouette drawn against the lights of the bullpen.

Tonight she had decided to let him sleep, he thought when he heard the soft click of the door closing behind her.

He opened his eyes in the dark watching her moving away swiftly towards the elevators. He had nothing to offer her, _couldn't _offer anything, but at least he could try to sleep tonight, as he knew she wanted.


	4. Season 4: of lies and cons

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist**

Season 4: of lies and cons (before the Las Vegas finale)

Jane caught the eye of the bartender and pointed a finger to his scotch, now almost empty. Looking at his own reflection on the mirror in this bar of Las Vegas he felt sick, hair and clothes disheveled, eyes injected in blood and a heavy stubble that aged him at least 5 years.

He chuckled without humor grabbing the sticky glass and shaking it lightly, he looked as bad as he felt, maybe even worse.

He had been there for months and still didn't have a single clue about Red John. He was confident on his plan, but with every passing week his anxiety was growing. What if Red John didn't care? What if he just wanted his self-destruction in this spiral of alcohol, gambling and self-pity? No, he had to stay strong, he thought taking a sip of his drink grimacing: even with his high tolerance for alcohol, he had limits and was starting to feel dizzy. Maybe another game in the casino and he could drag his feet to the motel. Looking like a desperate and sad man, which was not very far from the truth.

His phone buzzed on the table and he grabbed his glass with both hands. He knew who was calling, who else would bother? He closed his eyes briefly and glanced to the display: Teresa Lisbon. His body tensed and he made a conscious effort not to reach the phone, not to talk to her. After a painful minute the ring stopped and with shaky fingers he disconnected the phone for now, knowing he would turn it on in the morning. At the beginning of this long run con he had thought about turning it off for good, but Teresa's pleading eyes kept coming to his mind.

He chuckled darkly again, _Teresa_, more and more lately she had stopped being just Lisbon and slowly she had become something different, something more. He had not been able to switch off the phone after this. Knowing that she would think that he was dead or worse, at least this way she knew he was alive although not willing to talk to her.

And that makes it all better he thought wryly.

Running his fingers through his now longer hair he squeezed his eyes shut. He was a bastard but _had_ to finish this. This man, Red John, was destroying his soul piece by piece and he didn't know if there would be anything left when he finished him off. But he had to. Even if it meant hurting the ones he loved. At least she was safe and well. No way in hell he was going to drag her to this with him. She _would_ survive even if he didn't.

He sipped his drink, the big room spinning slightly, recalling their conversation the day before his grand finale and the look in her beautiful green eyes the day after, when he was in the elevator. He knew she was begging him but he was too far in his own con. Maybe this was it, the moment he would catch and kill him with his bare hands. He could not let her change his mind and he knew what a look at him could do. His heart beat wildly in his chest and he took a fortifying gulp, hoping for once to get drunk enough to forget everything, including his family, including Teresa Lisbon.

_Lisbon was at her desk reading some papers and tapping lightly with a pen, frowning in concentration. Jane's intention was to say good night and go to his motel, preparing himself for tomorrow. But he had found himself watching her every move from the safety of her white couch, trying to commit her to his memory palace, not knowing when or if he would see her again. His throat closed at the thought but tried to convince himself it was for the best. __He could not__ tell her. She had to believe he was spiraling down. If she believed and acted accordingly, Red John would believe it too. He had eyes everywhere. And he needed for Lisbon to act as he was sure __she was gonna do._

_He needed her to be sad and to look for him and to…miss him. He swallowed painfully noticing his vision clouding. __He was gonna miss her__ so much…. __C__ausing her pain had never been his plan but at least she would be alive and that was all that mattered to him, for her to be safe at the end. __He was not gonna be the cause__ of her death, that was the only promise he had made himself regarding Lisbon. And even if she disagreed with his methods and surely would argue flashing her green eyes in anger, he was __gonna__ do whatever necessary to fulfill it. Whether she liked it or not._

_He looked at her then, while she tapped the pen against her lips. He could imagine her dimples showing when she smiled at him, the spark in her green eyes when she was amused or angry, the way she said his name in annoyance or endearment… he stood up brusquely to leave._

"_Are you ok?" Lisbon asked furrowing her eyebrows in concern_

"_Meh, it was a long day. And horrible" He added as an afterthought, she had to believe his con._

_Lisbon dropped the pencil on the table, all her attention focused on him, her green eyes concerned "Do you want to talk about it?"_

_He shook his head but didn't speak, he needed to look sad and forlorn, although he was pretty sure his voice would crack if he tried to speak which would convince her even more, but he found he couldn't do it. She was worried enough, and she would be worrying even more in the next…weeks? months?_

_He swallowed "I…will go to my motel if you don't need anything else"_

_He locked his gaze on hers, memorizing everything, absorbing all he could of her soothing presence. At last he broke the contact and walked purposefully to the door but was stopped by her voice._

"_Jane… if you…I mean if you need to talk…" She trailed off unsure. She was still afraid of saying too much, of upsetting him._

_He shook his head without turning "I'm fine. See you around"_

"_Oh…Ok"_

_He noticed then the defeat in her voice, saw her shoulders sinking on the reflection of her window office, and suddenly the need to comfort her and himself become overwhelming. Turning abruptly to a surprised Lisbon, Jane placed both of his hands on the desk and bent__ until he was at eye level with her. Close very close._

"_Everything will be ok Teresa. I need you to believe this"_

_His voice was desperate, pleading, and his palms sweaty. At some point his hands had closed painfully to fists on her desk._

"_Please"_

_Lisbon blinked a couple of times confused. Her green eyes locked with his, scanning his begging face trying to understand. At last she nodded doubtfully and he retreated slowly and smiling weakly. Trying to prolong this eye contact as long as he could, before __fleeting of the room__._

And there he was, months later, drunk to his ass in a Casino. Trying to make his plan work. At least she was safe, he repeated like a mantra. Not happy, but that was not important. He loved her enough to….

He almost choked on his drink, his pulse accelerating as he breathed out a shaky laugh that sounded more like a bark.

_Well, it's said children and drunks always spoke the truth…_

He pressed the heels of his hands on his tight closed eyes and licked his dry lips. To be honest this was hardly a revelation although he couldn't point out how or when it had happened. It had been progressive and in different ways in all these years together, in the cracks of his hatred and self-pity he had always seen her, seeping, in a way he never thought possible. This was just one of the scarce moments he allowed himself to think about it, to think about her this way. His self control had a vice-grip hold on this particular train of thought on daytime but there were moments, when he was about to fall sleep or like this, drunk as if there was no tomorrow, when his subconscious broke free and let him trembling with dread and anticipation and…. wishes. Something he could not afford. Not when _he _was still alive.

He trembled at the thought. And afterwards? _What if?_

He knew she loved him in a way, and had never said anything. Not just for respect to his feelings, for respect to his grieve, but also because he was sure she had not fully realized it. There were moments he locked his eyes with hers and saw it, _love_, leaving him warm and dizzy, but always tried to divert her, to make her angry. Not wanting her to realize it, to give it too much thought. He was unlovable after all, he could not feel anything for anybody, he was as good as dead… or he thought he was until her, until Teresa. With her he had found out not being as dead as he believed, every piece of him still alive calling for her. Finding he had enough feelings left in him to love her had been a surprise, unthinkable years ago. He flicked his ring, nervous, uneasy. This was not easy or convenient for him but he couldn't deny it. He loved Teresa Lisbon.

He tried the words in his mind and felt a wave of panic flooding through him. He could not love her, bad things happened to anyone close to him. And besides he had a goal and was not going to endanger it or her. To accomplish his mission he couldn't let anyone see what was in his heart. He must be alone, cold, he needed to focus, to finish, he had promised to his family. He had no choice, he wasn't free.

He signaled with an unstable hand to his now empty glass to the bartender. He needed another one, and another after that.

He had sworn to himself he would never act on his feelings. There was no point denying them, he knew, have known for a while but this didn't imply anything. It meant nothing. He shivered at the thought. It meant everything, and it was unexpected and undesirable and frightening. He couldn't, just couldn't. Not with the threat of Red John hanging over their heads, not with the murder of his family fresh in his mind. He would push his feelings deep down, pretending he felt nothing, pretending not to notice her smiles or the way her eyes lighted when she saw him. Just wishing she never knew, and hoping she still believed that what she felt for him was just friendship.

With unsteady feet he got up and left a couple of bills on the table. His hand in his pockets grabbing with force his phone, his only bond to her now, as he exited the casino.

Lisbon huffed and banged the phone on her desk running a hand through her black hair, her eyes scanning the dark office, not focusing on anything.

It had been months without contact, not a call or a text, telling her something, anything. Feeling tears prickling, she swallowed her frustration.

He was in Las Vegas. Lisbon had tracked him down after a couple of quiet calls asking for personal favors. She knew the rest of the story, drunk most of the time, gambling, picking fights… and who knew what else. At the beginning giving him time had felt like the right thing to do, just calling him every now and then to let him know that she still cared, that he was not alone. She had given him time to grieve in private now that he thought that Red John was out of reach, thinking that he would call her when he was ready but she had been proved wrong.

Lisbon closed her eyes, rubbing her temples in defeat and turned off the small lamp on her desk, letting the darkness engulf her office. She had been an idiot, how didn't she see it? She thought he was healing, she thought he was confortable at least with her, that he was opening more and more. Only to be proven thoroughly wrong. If she had noticed before… Jane had been acting weird lately, the desperation and pain visible in his face, and she thought that being there, showing him that she cared would make him talk to her when he was ready. But this never happened. She should have taken the lead, she should have forced him to talk…

Grabbing her jacket and phone briskly, the atmosphere in her office suddenly oppressive, she fled to the elevator ignoring Van Pelt's concerned expression. It was very late and they were the only ones left in the bullpen. Phoning him this late at night had become a habit, a necessity, when everybody was home, when the job was over and memories of their time together assaulted her. How she missed him… in a way she never thought possible. He had become more to her than a partner and she felt as if she had failed him, and couldn't do anything for him now.

Lisbon exited the building going for a walk, it was her routine lately, when the memories were too much, when she had phoned Jane for the hundredth time without an answer. How long had it been? Too much. She tried to hide her concern, her pain, knowing the team was aware of it. Respecting her enough not to ask questions, she had noticed them exchanging glances when they caught her staring to her phone in the office. She couldn't help it, she spaced out when something reminded her of him which was surprisingly often. Had he really had such impact on her life that she couldn't even remember the time when they were not together?

In autopilot Lisbon took the same path she was used to follow these months. It was quiet and lonely, and she could just walk and walk, emptying her mind, trying consciously not to think about him, trying not to miss him. It was better than the alternative, laying motionless in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours, trying to decipher what she did wrong, what she could have possibly done to avoid this outcome. She even had changed her habits to avoid being alone, to avoid overthinking. Staying in the office later than usual, buried in the job, following every procedure and protocol, everything that didn't remind her of him. She had started to jog in the mornings and to take long walks at night, always in motion. If she didn't stop she would have no time to feel guilty or sad for not having done a thing.

What if he got too drunk or if he annoyed the wrong people? What if he hurt himself? Lisbon swallowed, her breathing accelerating. She knew Jane was not as careless as he seemed to be, the death of his family had affected him more than what people could see behind his dazzling smiles and cheeky facade, and this last year had been specially tough, without new clues about Red John. He was too sensitive and too stubborn and after all this time still blamed himself for their deaths, he was still mourning. She had never thought about Jane being sensitive years ago, he seemed cold and composed but she had guessed it was his way to avoid distractions from people, if he didn't care about anybody, nobody would care for him. He wanted to complete his goal without interferences and to punish himself too, but in these years together she had seen the real Jane and had come to care about him.

Lisbon stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat, it was very late and it was half raining, tiny drops falling on her hair and face. The weather was as good as her mood.

These few months receiving mixed signals had been weird and tough. There were moments he seemed content, bantering like they always did, smiling and joking, but suddenly he was a completely different man, like when he buried that guy alive, as if he suddenly remembered he could not be happy.

The sadness was replaced by anger then, completing an endless circle so familiar to her now like he had been, napping on her couch. He should have talked to her, weren't they partners, friends? She thought they were close, after all they'd gone through she believed she was someone he trusted. He was secretive but she thought he really was letting her in. Did she mean anything to him? He must know he was killing her right now, maybe he didn't care?

With the hands in her pockets she continued walking, never stopping. She had to do something, she was not going to let him destroy himself. She counted backwards, it had been enough time for self-pity and grieving, she had to make a choice. Forgetting about him or dragging him back to Sacramento.

Lisbon past a little church on her way back, one she had never noticed before. Surrounded by darkness, the wind blowing through one of its open windows making it look gloomy and spooky. Her numb fingers brushed her cross unconsciously, it looked as a good place to think though. She had been praying for him a lot in these months of uncertainty and loneliness. Surely he would have laughed about it if he knew, and with a spark in his eyes would have made some kind of joke about his soul or lack of it. She chuckled lightly but the laugh got stuck in her throat and, blinking repeatedly,she tried to regains her bearings when she felt her eyes moistening.

Red John was like a drug to Jane. He wanted more and more and he couldn't help it.

Watching the progressive changes in him every time there was a case Red John related had been hard to cope. She had noticed them with increasing worry: nervous, speaking hastily, eyes wandering unable to rest in a single point… he had _that_ look that scared her and at the same time compelled her to help him, to look after him.

Lisbon grimaced and frowned sadly. She still was determined to stop Jane from killing him but as the years passed not succeeding was a strong possibility. Jane was very stubborn and obsessive, his focus narrowing every time Red John appeared in scene, forgetting everything and everybody, including himself. That was one of the reasons why she hadn't gone to Las Vegas to drag his ass back to Sacramento yet. It had to be him who wanted to return, it had to be him to let her in. _Like a drug._

A familiar headache forming, exhausted and defeated, her footsteps led her to the car. It was easier when she was alone, when she was focused on her job and the law. Now the world was not only black and white and that was exhausting. Overall when Jane was not by her side. She was not alone and now… she was again. She swallowed the knot in her throat and lifted the collar of her jacket. Was she doing the right thing? Waiting for him to decide to stop? Maybe she should make him come back, look for help if necessary...

She straightened her shoulders against the wind and focused her gaze on the little church on passing. A decision had to be made. But not today. Tomorrow she would come back here to think and pray, but tonight she would sleep as if Patrick Jane didn't exist, as if she were the Teresa Lisbon of years ago, the Teresa Lisbon _before_ Patrick Jane stormed into her life.

But tomorrow would be different. 6 months were a damn enough time.


End file.
